The Outer Sect city was alive with rumors of the recent competition. The victory of Lu Mao's team had spread like wildfire, turning them into overnight celebrities among the younger recruits. Whispers followed them wherever they went, Some filled with admiration, others with jealousy. But none of it mattered now.
Because today, Li Xian was summoning them.
In the crisp morning air, she gathered Lu Mao, Chen Yuan, Bao Fu, and Yan Mei in the courtyard. She stood with her usual poise, arms folded, sharp eyes surveying them as if weighing their worth anew.
"You've proven yourselves in the Outer Sect competition," she said, her voice calm yet carrying authority. "That was your first step. But the path ahead is steeper. Today, you will accompany me to the Inner Sect city."
Bao Fu whistled. "The Inner Sect? Already? Do they… serve better food there?"
Chen Yuan elbowed him, face pale with nerves. "Idiot, this isn't about food. The Inner Sect is filled with elites. We'll stand out like rats in a banquet hall."
Lu Mao smirked faintly. "Rats survive better than peacocks."
Li Xian's lips curved ever so slightly, as if amused despite herself. "The Inner Sect is where your true journey begins. There, we'll meet my master. He will give you your first real mission."
Yan Mei tilted her head, her quiet voice cutting through the noise. "A test within a test."
Li Xian gave a single nod. "Exactly."
The journey to the Inner Sect city took them through winding stone stairways and across bridges that arched high above mist-filled ravines. The city itself came into view like a vision, towering walls carved with the golden sparrow insignias of the Thief Clan, rooftops layered like blades, alleyways that coiled like mazes. Unlike the bustling liveliness of the Outer Sect, the Inner Sect exuded pressure. Disciples here moved with confidence, each step calculated, each glance sharp.
Chen Yuan muttered, "They look like they could steal the coin in my pocket without moving a muscle."
Bao Fu clutched his pouch defensively. "Wait—you don't think they actually…?"
"They would," Lu Mao said dryly, his eyes scanning the flowing crowd. "And you wouldn't even notice until you were penniless."
Yan Mei walked silently at the edge, her gaze steady, never lingering on the gazes cast their way.
They halted before a towering black hall, its massive gates etched with golden characters: Chamber of Silent Blades. This was the sanctum where elders convened, issuing counsel and commissioning special missions for their disciples.
Inside, the hall was dim, lit only by flickering lanterns. At the far end sat an old man at a desk carved from obsidian. His hair was silver, his features sharp as a dagger's edge, his presence like a shadow blanketing the chamber. This was Master Shen Mu, Li Xian's teacher, one of the Inner Sect's most respected elders.
He lifted his eyes slowly, and the air itself seemed to quiet. "So these are the recruits who caught your eye, Xian'er?"
"Yes, Master Shen Mu," Li Xian replied, bowing with deep respect. "They won the Outer Sect competition with skill and unity. I believe they are ready for greater trials."
Shen Mu's gaze swept over the four of them. His eyes lingered on Lu Mao longer than the others, and for a brief moment, Lu Mao felt as though the elder could see straight through his skin, into the golden-black veins hidden within. He forced his expression to remain calm.
"Hmm. Youthful arrogance, yet tempered by instinct," Shen Mu murmured. "Not entirely useless."
Bao Fu nearly squeaked. "D-did he just call us not useless? Is that… praise?"
Chen Yuan elbowed him again, hissing, "Shut up before he changes his mind!"
A faint twitch curved Shen Mu's lips, whether amusement or disdain, none could tell. Then his voice turned sharp as a blade.
"Your first mission. A merchant by the name of Huo Jian has recently obtained a relic meant for the Inner Sect. He is no ordinary trader—he has hired mercenary martial artists to guard his caravan. You are to infiltrate, acquire the relic, and return it to me. Steal cleanly, like disciples of the Thief Clan. If you are discovered, you will run. If you are trapped, you may fight. But remember—this is not a bandit raid. We are not scavengers. We are shadows. Leave no unnecessary blood behind."
Chen Yuan straightened, his jaw set. "What relic are we to retrieve, Master?"
Shen Mu's eyes gleamed faintly. "You do not need to know what it is. All you must know is that it belongs to the Clan, and it will return to us. Fail, and you will not need to worry about your place in the Outer Sect anymore."
Silence pressed over them.
Finally, Shen Mu flicked his sleeve, dismissing them. "Go. Prepare yourselves."
⸻
As they left the chamber, Bao Fu let out the breath he had been holding. "Did anyone else feel like his eyes were stabbing straight through their soul? I thought he'd find out about the time I stole that bun last week."
"You really have no filter," Chen Yuan muttered.
Lu Mao said nothing. His gaze was still distant, thoughts turning like cogs. That elder… he definitely noticed something.
Yan Mei broke her silence as they reached the fork leading to the dorms. She paused, turning to Lu Mao. Her eyes, calm yet piercing, lingered on him.
"Don't do crazy things without me. No practicing secret martial arts in the dead of night. No sudden risks."
Lu Mao's grin widened faintly. "You say that like you've been spying on me."
Her lips curved ever so slightly. "Because you're predictable."
He chuckled, lifting a hand in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll try to stay boring. No promises, though."
With a graceful nod, Yan Mei disappeared into the path leading to the girls' dormitory.
That night, Lu Mao sat cross-legged in his room, the manuals spread before him. His mind drifted once more into the endless void of his inner world.
He had been waiting for this moment.
The Wind Fist manual had already been devoured, improved beyond recognition, and a single silver door had appeared on the golden-black vein—a door without handle or key. He hadn't dared touch it yet.
Now, three other manuals lay before him.
Shadow Steps. Phantom Veil. Eyes of the Hawk.
His hand hovered above them. The vein pulsed faintly, as though anticipating.
"Let's see how far this can go," he whispered.
The moment his fingers brushed the manuals, three vaults throbbed with violent hunger. One by one, the manuals dissolved into light, sucked into the abyss. The vaults shut with a boom, their locks glowing.
Then one of the vaults shone brighter than the rest. Its surface turned from black to gleaming silver.
Lu Mao's breath caught. "Silver…?"
For the first time, a vault had changed.
At the same time, three new doors appeared on the colossal golden-black vein in the center. All of them silver, all firmly shut.
And then the flood began.
Information poured into his brain like a raging storm. Movements, principles, breathing patterns, and insights cascaded over him. But unlike before, his body no longer buckled under the weight. His cultivation had improved, and his mind steadied against the torrent.
He clenched his teeth, enduring, his fists tightening on his knees.
The first technique to unravel was Eyes of the Hawk. But it was no longer the same. His vision sharpened, stretching unnaturally. He blinked, and suddenly he was looking through the window—no, not just looking. He saw a guard across the courtyard as though standing beside him, the man's chest rising and falling with every breath. Lu Mao's mind clicked, he could even anticipate the man's next movement a heartbeat before it happened, as though time itself bent for a moment.
His lips curled. "So this is the difference…"
He tested the others. Shadow Steps flowed smoother, lighter, until his presence itself seemed to flicker. Phantom Veil expanded—no longer just escape, but deception itself. His body could blur at the edges, creating the illusion of vanishing.
When the flood of information ended, sweat covered his skin, but his breathing was steady.
He opened his eyes in the darkness of his dorm, golden light flickering in his irises before fading.
A laugh slipped from his lips, quiet and sharp.
"These vaults… they're more terrifying than I imagined."
And yet, he knew instinctively—this was only the beginning.
Outside, the night stretched over the Sect like a watchful shadow. Disciples whispered in hidden corners, plots stirred among rival teams, and the promise of their first mission loomed.
But in the stillness of his dorm, Lu Mao sat in silence, every muscle thrumming with new strength.
The silver vault had whispered its secrets.
And soon, he would have to use them.